


Needle Through a Bug

by Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angel Dust-Typical Sexual Content (Hazbin Hotel), Angst, Eating Disorders, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation Interruptus, Serial Killers, Trans Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Trans Male Character, Violence, Yandere Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/pseuds/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts
Summary: Angel wakes up in a hospital after a party. His doctor is very strange, worryingly so. Still, he can't help but be intrigued.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 217





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My brain decided a good day job for a serial killer would be a doctor and I decided not to question it.

Anthony woke to the sound of a steady beeping which grew faster as he took in his blurred surroundings. He didn't recognise the space he was in, brightly lit and too much white. It certainly wasn't where he was supposed to be. The last he remembered was crashing a party with his best friend, Cherri. She'd brought him along for backup since she had every intention of starting a fight with that guy… _What was his name? Perry? Percy?_ He couldn't remember the guy's name but the fight didn't last long and it was the sort that started friendships anyway. Everyone was cool with each other once the tension was out of their systems and Anthony's ex had brought drugs and was willing to share. He'd wound up on the floor, enjoying the feeling of the carpet against his arms when the memory hit a blank.

Anthony jolted upright, and groaned as the movement jarred the needle in his arm. He looked down, his eyes trailing the tube connected to the needle up to an IV bag. _Hospital_ his mind supplied, a bit slow to process everything. _I shouldn't be here._ He ripped the needle out of his arm and took off the rest of the sensors, pushing himself from the bed only to immediately fall as his legs weren't ready to take his weight.

"Well that was dramatic!" Came a voice from the doorway, which Anthony hadn't realised was open. In the doorway was a doctor, grinning like Anthony's stumble was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. His skin was just a bit darker than Anthony's own tan, and he had dark locks pulled back into a short ponytail. Small framed glasses sat low on his nose, which le looked over instead of through. "And a very good way to injure yourself. Back to bed now."

"I gotta go." Angel protested. "I can't afford this shit."

"Well you've been here two days so it's a bit late for that." 

"What?" Angel cried. 

"Minor coma." The doctor said with a nod. "You had an alarming amount of phencyclidine in your system. We had to flush you out. Since you are awake now do you mind telling me your name? You didn't have any ID on you when you were brought in." 

"Angel." 

"Is there a last name to go with that?" 

"Dust."

"Like the drug you were brought in for?" The doctor raised a disbelieving brow. _Angel_ didn't offer his real name though, so he pushed up his glasses, erased the 'John Doe' on the charted whiteboard next to the door and scribbled the false name in. "Well my name is Alastor Landry. Do you have any family to call? Surely they must be worried."

"Nunya." Angel huffed. "It don't fuckin' matter. Just let me go home."

"No can do!" Alastor declared, hauling Angel up off of the floor and back onto the bed. "You can hardly walk."

"I'm fuckin' fine."

"You are not. You are severely underweight, anemic, fatigued, and--" Here, Alastor pulled a small penlight out of his pocket to shine in Angel's eyes. "Very possibly concussed. Your left eye is unresponsive to light, even awake. I checked it earlier but there's been no change."

"That's from a few years ago. Got conked in the head. Family doctor fixed me up then, she can fix me now." Angel admitted. "I still can't afford to be here." 

"Angel you overdosed. You've had a seizure and nearly died. You just woke up from a mild coma. You need the care." Alastor explained sternly. 

Angel sighed, but conceded the fact that he wasn't getting up soon. If he was honest with himself he didn't really want to go home anyway. His father could probably afford the bill once this all was over if he gave enough of a shit, but it would still be hell for Angel to go asking. 

"I ain't gettin' arrested once you get me healthy, am I?" Angel couldn't help but ask.

"No." Alastor answered. "I'm not keeping you here for police. I am keeping you here for your own good."

Angel wasn't sure if that was an honest answer or not, but he had no choice but to trust it for now. It would be fine anyway. The hospital had him under a fake name and once he could walk properly it would be easy enough to bolt. He wouldn't even have to worry about a medical bill if he played things right. So he relaxed, let Alastor reset the IV in his other arm and bandage the first. 

"Used to needles." Alastor tutted, brushing a thumb over old trackmarks. "Most people at least flinch."

"It's my body." Angel snarked back. 

"Yes. And you only get the one." Alastor returned. "You need to take care of it."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Angel rolled his eyes. "Look buddy, I'm here for a good time not a long time. You feel me?" 

Before Angel could react there was a hand around his throat, cutting off his airway. Another kept his needled arm down but his free one instantly came up to try prying the offending hand away. Alastor's grip tightened briefly, painfully before letting go just as quickly as he had latched on.

"What the _fuck?!_ " Angel coughed.

"Your body's survival instinct seems just fine to me! Pity your mind isn't of the same priorities." Alastor said cheerfully, as if he hadn't just been choking his patient. "You get some rest and I'll check on you again in a few hours."

"Hold on a minute!" Angel called, but Alastor had already left, shutting the door behind him. 

Angel was very confused, a fair bit scared, and just a little turned on. A lot had happened in a very short time and he didn't have nearly enough energy to process it all. Given no real choice, he slumped against the pillow of the bed and felt around for the remote to turn the tv on. With comforting idle noise he dozed off, fatigue winning out against his paranoia.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel gets annoyed and tries to make the best of it. Alastor's not having it.

Angel woke up some time in the night when a nurse came in to change his IV. They left quickly enough, shutting the door behind them but now that he was awake Angel couldn't fall back asleep. The beeping of the heart monitor was starting to grate on his nerves. He wasn't even sure why he had been hooked up to it again. He was out of the coma, so couldn't they just shove him and see if he reacted to make sure he was still alive? That's what his siblings and Cherri usually did if he was passed out somewhere.

He considered taking the sensor for the heart monitor off, but he didn't want to cause a panic if everyone thought his heart had suddenly stopped. He glared at the machine, growing angry at the beeping. Then an awful idea crept into his head and he laughed to himself.

"Bet I can make this thing do tricks." He said to no one, sitting up and kicking the thin sheet off. The needle in his arm was annoying as shit but a little pain never stopped him before.

Not even ten minutes later Alastor barged in purposefully, but practically skidded to a halt when he registered what Angel was doing. His eyes widened comically and he covered them with both hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" 

" _Oh_ I think you know." Angel replied smuggly, slowing his fingers but not entirely stopping. "Pass me a twenty and you can help. Consider it a discount."

"No." Alastor answered quickly, turning his back. "This is not the place for _that_ behavior. Your vitals spiked. I thought you were seizing again."

"Aw, you care." Angel teased, but he did stop and cover himself, wiping his hand on his paper gown and wondering for a moment where the fuck his clothes even were.

"It's my job to care." Alastor pointed out, not amused.

"Hell of a bedside manner you got." Angel snarked. "You can turn around. I'm decent."

"That's a false statement." Alastor huffed but turned anyway. "You're a druggie and apparently a prostitute to boot. You are far below decency."

"I prefer the term 'pro hoe'. It's more fun to say." Angel shrugged. "Do I _need_ the beeping box of fuckin' bullshit?" He asked, jerking a thumb at the monitor.

"If you feel well enough to be… engaging yourself I suppose not." Alastor conceded, moving closer to disconnect the monitor in a way that wouldn't set off any alarms. "Since you clearly have the energy you should try walking again." He suggested.

Angel fell quiet, frowning somewhat. Then he nodded and held out his arm. "Get this shit out of me then. If I take another dive I don't want it fuckin' up my veins."

"I think you've ruined your own veins already." Alastor rolled his eyes. 

"No, I'm actually pretty good at findin' 'em first try." Angel shot back while he watched Alastor work. 

It was a bit more of a complicated process to get the needle out, since after Angel had ripped out the first the second had been secured with triple the tape and bandaging. Alastor's practiced hands still managed fairly quickly. Once he was free of the IV, he gripped the handle on the side of the bed and pulled himself to sit on the edge of it. He looked up at Alastor expectantly. "What, not gonna help me up?"

"I don't think you need it." 

Angel grumbled to himself but pushed himself up, only to hit the floor with a grunt. Alastor nearly rolled his eyes, seeing the act for what it was. Angel hadn't shook or wobbled or staggered, he simply let his legs fold under him. His legs were fine. Alastor didn't let on that he knew that Angel was acting, hauling the other up and toward the bathroom. 

"Best wash your hands before you go touching anything else." Alastor said, noting that Angel walked with him with no need of being dragged or displacing his weight.

Angel pushed away once in the bathroom, shutting the door between him and giving up on acting out more than a limp when he realized Alastor would just follow him in if he looked like he was struggling _too_ much. 

Alastor could tell easily that Angel didn't want to go home even if he previously claimed to. It didn't take a genius to know Angel was involved in some sort of organized crime. Almost definitely italian. Between the drug alias and the refusal to give up any familial information Alastor could guess Angel was _in the family._ Unfortunate, really, but potentially entertaining. Since Angel seemed keen on staying in the hospital now even after protesting before he probably wanted an out. No doubt the mafia would reward him handsomely if he safely returned a clearly wayward son.

Too bad Alastor didn't care much for rewards. He had an appreciation for the less material things. Things that kept the boredom at bay. Stirring up drama and watching things fall apart while placing blame elsewhere was Alastor's cup of proverbial tea. Much more fun to find out which family Angel belonged to and let them know where he was. He had no clue how to go about that particular goosechase; Mob families wouldn't last long if just anyone could get a hold of them.

Alastor took note of a retching sound on the other side of the door. That one sounded real enough.

"You slept through dinner but breakfast will be soon. You'll be on a special diet for a few days, no solids." Alastor informed, knowing that mentioning the timeframe would give Angel a sense of security. 

"Fuck that." Angel grunted between heaves. 

"Your stomach needs to adjust." Alastor explained further. "It's been empty a while. Empty when you arrived, even. Small for someone your height. You're very underweight. Tell me, is it bulimia or anorexia?"

"It's none of your fuckin' business." Angel huffed. "You're a twig too. Shut up."

"My business at the moment is your health." Alastor pointed out.

"Get fucked." Angel groaned, trying to breathe normally even though he felt like his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out.

"I would prefer not to."

Angel laughed at that, then retched again. Nothing came up. Nothing had been coming up aside from bile but the sudden nausea was too strong to ignore. A few days of not eating would do that, but it wasn't entirely his fault. He couldn't very well eat while in a coma and before that, he'd been on a steady cocktail of drugs that left him without appetite. It was easy to forget to eat when you weren't hungry.


End file.
